


Please Forgive Me

by Leila Jane Whitford (se_parsons)



Category: Roswell (TV 1999)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27554005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/se_parsons/pseuds/Leila%20Jane%20Whitford
Summary: SPOILER WARNING: Everything up to “Heat Wave”RATING: PG-13 (Swearing, slight sexual content.)CLASSIFICATION:  Vignette, missing scene from “Heat Wave”, songficKEYWORDS:  Michael, Max, Maria, LizTHANK YOUS:  To Sister Hippie, my partner in crime and fellow ice cream eater.SUMMARY: Michael comes to school during “Heat Wave”.SONG CREDIT: The song is by David Gray, from his fabulous album White Ladder, only now available in the U.S. thanks to Dave Matthews signing him as an opening act.You can hear it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VsDMjet0fyo
Relationships: Maria DeLuca/Michael Guerin
Kudos: 6





	Please Forgive Me

Michael made it in the door just as the bell rang. He closed the door quietly behind him as twenty five pairs of eyes bored into his back. He ignored them and took his seat slouching in his best slacker fashion and stretching his long legs out almost into the aisle.

“Mr. Guerin, in class three days in a row,” Mr. Sommers said with a tight smile. “And on time. This must be some kind of record.”

“Way to encourage him,” Michael heard Max mumble under his breath. He didn’t allow himself to react at his friend’s defensive instinct.

Liz flashed him a smile from her position toward the front of the room and Michael gave her a small nod. Isabel just raised her eyebrows at him questioningly, so he let it pass. No reason to tip his hand in that direction. Dangerous, in fact, considering all the comments she’d been making lately. And it wasn’t Isabel he was interested in, anyway.

Please forgive me if I act a little strange  
For I know not what I do  
Feels like lightning running through my veins  
Every time I look at you  
Every time I look at you

He looked toward the front of the room. Seeing everyone was looking at him, it wouldn’t be suspicious for him to check out the other students for the one he was looking for. 

She was there, two rows ahead of him, turned around in her chair next to Kyle just like everyone else. And she was smiling, too, just like Liz. And not like Liz, either, because where Liz’s smile was a friendly smile of welcome and solidarity against that prick, Sommers, hers was so much more.

Maria’s smile was slow and sly and even a little dirty, and the best part was it was all for him. If he thought about it, he could still taste the cherry lip gloss from that smile from the day before in the storage room, and he meant to taste it again before the day was out. Her eyes were even half-closed, just like they were before he kissed her. He wanted to badly enough to get him out of bed and to school even though he hadn’t gone to sleep until three the morning before. Hank had come home in a drunken rage and had spent four hours blaming Michael for everything that was wrong with his life and outlining in great detail all the ways in which Michael himself was a worthless loser. But if it meant five minutes in the storage closet or the Eraser Room with Maria, getting up early on no sleep at all would all be totally worth it.

And that fact scared the hell out of him.

It had gotten intense so fast. It was like he was in a speeding car with a busted brake line and no clear idea how to downshift to prevent them both from getting messed up. And there she was, smiling that dirty, knowing smile at him and he was lost. He knew it. And he was afraid she did, too. And if she did, God help him.

Sommers had said something to him, and Michael realized he’d better make some kind of response. People were looking at him and expecting a comment.

“I wouldn’t get too used to my being here,” Michael said, unable to tear his eyes away from Maria but needing to get himself some space, even if only in his own mind. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you later.” 

Mr. Sommers just grunted and began taking attendance while the class turned back around and opened their History books. Maria was one of the last ones to turn toward the front and when she did she wasn’t smiling any more.

Michael didn’t know whether to kick himself or be glad that he’d succeeded in backing them up a little. He was starting to get more than a little freaked.

Help me out here are my words fallin’ short  
There’s so much I want to say  
Want to tell you just how good it feels  
When you look at me that way  
When you look at me that way

With his record non-attendance that year, Michael had almost managed to forget how mind-numbingly boring school actually was. He wished he’d thought to bring his textbook and something to read behind it, so he wouldn’t actually have had to listen to Mr. Sommers droning on as he essentially read the textbook to them word for word at the front of the class.

He could see that Maria wasn’t paying attention, either. She was doodling something on a sheet of paper inside her notebook, moving her ballpoint pen around and around until he was almost hypnotized by the repetitive motion of her hand. He remembered how soft that hand had felt against his cheek and the surprising power in it as she’d clutched his back when he’d lifted her up onto the counter at the Crashdown. He’d be in her hands again later that day, as soon as he could find them a place, but he was beginning to be afraid that no matter how hard they both held on, no matter how strong they were or how much they wanted it, what they did wouldn’t be enough. That something would come along to divide them, to tear them apart.

Or maybe he would just screw up somehow and she would let go.

Back when they’d been younger and dumber and less afraid of discovery, he and Max had taken some pride in answering the questions their sixth-grade teacher Mr. Angus had asked before he’d actually asked them because he, too, had had the habit of just reading the textbook up in front of the room. You could just skip ahead and be really annoying by shouting out the answer just as he started to read the question. But they didn’t dare do anything like that now. It would call too much attention to them, and people were already suspicious. It made Michael wonder how these idiots kept their jobs when they didn’t actually do anything. But, then, seeing school was essentially run just like prison anyway, he supposed that the only thing anyone really cared about was if the kids were all in one place from seven-thirty to three every weekday, not whether they actually learned anything or had thoughts.

“Did you hear what I said, Mr. Guerin?” Sommers said, apparently he’d been talking at Michael instead of just droning as usual.

“Could you repeat the question?” Michael asked. It was the expected response for being caught off guard in a classroom situation. Everyone was looking at him again like he was some sort of freak on display for their amusement. It really pissed him off. He was probably one of only nine or ten people in the room who had actually read the assignment, even if he hadn’t read it the night before.

“I doubt it will do you any good, Mr. Guerin,” Sommers said in his usual sneering fashion, and Michael could feel Maria’s eyes on him. He could see she felt sorry for him, and that she thought he didn’t know the answer, whatever it was. While he was glad of her sympathy in the face of Sommers’ dick-like behavior, he didn’t really like the thought that she had no confidence in him that way. It upset him. He didn’t want her to think he didn’t know. “Did you read the assignment last night?”

“No. Yes. What do you mean by that?” Michael asked.

“What’s the matter Mr. Guerin, don’t you know whether you read the assignment last night or not?” the teacher taunted, piggy face pulled into a sneer. “If you don’t even know that, I’m certain you won’t be able to answer the question.”

“And to think, I actually bothered to come to school today,” Michael said sarcastically, sitting up straight in his chair and leaning his elbows on the table. “So why don’t we try this one for size. I read the assignment, but not last night. I read it when I read the rest of the textbook about two weeks after school started. So why don’t you hit me with your question now and see how well I remember.”

“If you actually expect me to believe that, Mr. Guerin, you’re a sadly deluded young man,” Sommers said.

“Why don’t you ask him the question?” Maria said, shocking everyone. She didn’t usually talk in class, even though she more than made up for it in how much she talked the rest of the time. “Or are you afraid he really can answer it?”

“I am afraid of no such thing, Miss DeLuca, but if you really want to see Mr. Guerin humiliate himself further, then I’ll be more than happy to oblige,” Sommers looked down at his teacher’s edition and read the question again. “On the Lewis and Clark expedition, who led the two explorers west across the Louisiana Purchase?”

“Do you mean who was hired to lead them, or who actually led them?” Michael asked.

“What are you talking about, Mr. Guerin?” the teacher replied.

“I mean that a French trader, whose name, I admit, escapes me at the moment, was hired to lead them west, but that his teenaged Shoshone Indian wife Sacajawea actually did the leading. She’s the chick that’s going to be on the new dollar. She had a baby on the trip, too. Her husband only could have gotten them to the Dakotas, but Sacajawea knew the way all the way to Oregon because of traveling with her people and then being captured by the Sioux. Of course, that part’s not in the textbook. In fact, I don’t think it even mentions how old she was in there. But she was about our age when she did it. Pretty cool,” Michael said, leaning back again in his chair.

Mr. Sommers just stared at him, like the rest of the class was doing. They all knew it was the right answer, he could see it on their faces. He could see it on Maria’s, as well as how glad she was that he had known. There was a special look in her eyes just for him.

Throw a stone and watch the ripples flow  
Movin’ out across the bay  
Like a stone I fall into your eyes  
Deep into that mystery  
Deep into some mystery

“And where did you get this additional information, Mr. Guerin?” Sommers finally asked.

“It’s kind of common knowledge,” Michael said shrugging. “I don’t remember where I saw it first, actually. Maybe the Ken Burns West special on PBS, or maybe I read it somewhere before that. I know I’ve seen it about three or four times, but the textbook doesn’t tell you anything except her name. It’s a piece of crap. It leaves out everything interesting.”

“Well, thank you Mr. Guerin for your editorial review of our textbook,” Mr. Sommers said. “Your answer was correct. Now Mr. Evans, can you tell us as a review question, who the Louisiana Purchase was purchased from?”

“The country or the guy?” Max asked, and the class stifled a collective laugh as Mr. Sommers’ face turned red with pent-up fury.

“Both,” Sommers spat.

“France, from Napoleon, by Thomas Jefferson, who was President at the time. The third president,” Max said. Some people around the room snickered. Sommers looked about ready to explode.

“Are you mocking me, Mr. Evans?” Sommers asked dangerously.

“No sir,” Max replied and everyone managed to keep from laughing the few last seconds until the bell rang.

Everyone got up from their seats as quickly as they could gathering pencils, papers, and textbooks at lightning speed, and bolted for the door like it could prevent the inevitable.

“I want you to have read Chapter 15 by tomorrow!” Mr. Sommers called as they hurried off. “And do the study questions, I’ll collect them at the beginning of class.”

Even though he had less stuff than everybody else, Michael was one of the last to leave, not feeling like dealing with the crowd of people clogging the doorway.

“We don’t need attitude like that in this classroom, Mr. Guerin,” Mr. Sommers said to Michael’s back. Michael didn’t dignify him with an answer but sauntered out the door after the last of the departing students.

As soon as he was in the hallway it was a different story, however. He was immediately on the alert, trying to spot Maria in the gaggle of students milling around between classes. And there she was, walking away from him without Liz for once. Or maybe without Liz deliberately, because she wanted the same thing he did.

Michael stretched his long legs and pushed through the crowd, managing to get ahead of her and into the supply storage room to check that it was empty before she passed his position. Then it was just crack the door and wait for her to walk by.

He didn’t have to go too far out of the storage room to grab her, either. She was hugging the wall to keep out of the stream of students changing classes. He knew hers was only three doors down from the closet and that gave them almost four minutes alone. He meant to make each of them count.

Michael took her by the wrist and pulled her back with him into the closet. It took only a second to latch the door and pull her into his arms. And she came so willingly, pressing her soft body against him as he ran his lips along the silken skin of her cheekbone.

He wanted to touch her everywhere at once. His hands roamed over her like Tori Amos’ on a Bosendorfer, touching everything, making her moan into his mouth. She’d inexplicably worn a sweater that day, and his fingers tangled in it annoyingly as he tried to run his hands up her sides. He couldn’t get enough of her lips under his own, but there were so many great places to kiss, the hollow beneath her ear, her temple, the edge of her jaw, he wanted to taste them all in the few minutes they had together.

He ran his lips down the side of her neck and opened his eyes enough to see the reason for the sweater, ineptly covered with makeup a shade too dark for her skin. He’d marked her. The day before, in his zeal to possess her, he’d left a visible sign of his desire. He’d left evidence bruised into her tender flesh. Michael was simultaneously appalled at himself for endangering them through such intimate contact with a human being, with the leaving of evidence of that contact, and more turned on than he had ever been at the thought that she was his, that she wanted him, and that there was proof of it for everyone to see.

And she continued to want him like he’d wanted her almost from the moment they were alone together, almost from the moment he’d realized she felt the same way as he did about their lives in crappy Roswell, New Mexico. The moment he’d understood that there was someone else in the world that thought and felt like he did, not because they were both aliens but because they’d figured out the same things about the world they lived in and had had the same kinds of experiences. That Maria was like him in ways that Max and Isabel could never be because they’d always had it too easy.

It was so perfect, the way they felt the same about what they were doing and about each other that he was almost able to stop being afraid something was going to screw it up. That was until she started talking.

I got half a mind to scream out loud  
I got half a mind to die  
So I won’t ever have to lose you, girl  
Won’t ever have to say goodbye  
I won’t ever have to lie  
Won’t ever have to say goodbye

Michael sat in the boys’ restroom with his head against the cool, hard concrete of the block wall waiting for Max and praying for the strength he was going to need later that day when he saw Maria.

He’d done a lot of thinking the night before while hiding in his room to avoid another of Hank’s surly, drunken binges. His foster dad was pissed off at his new foreman and so spent most of his time either bitching about how he got treated on the job or drinking to put it out of his mind. Michael wondered sometimes how normal people handled problems like that. How did Mr. Evans handle a bad day at the law firm or Mr. Whitman at the geek place he worked? He doubted it was by getting drunk and beating on their kids.

But nothing in Michael’s world was normal and it never would be. Sure, it would be better when he was eighteen and able to get away from Hank, but it would never be normal. And he’d just been fooling himself when he’d let himself think that maybe some of it could be. Watching Max mooning over Liz and wondering when he was finally going to make his move, all that messed up crap with Maria in the car and the way she’d actually cared whether he found out about who he really was, flirting with and kissing Maria at the Crashdown when she was freaking out over Max and Liz being away so long, and everything they’d been doing since had gotten him all turned around. Maria hadn’t done what everyone else in his life had always done – let him down. And so he’d gotten sucked into the whole illusion of normalcy thing, the sham that Max lived every day with his human “family”. He’d started to believe that maybe life on earth didn’t have to be an endless time of waiting for things to be less shitty. That there might be something to actually look forward to.

He’d looked forward to seeing Maria, to touching her, to having her touch him. He’d started to want things he simply couldn’t afford to have. He’d gotten distracted away from things that really mattered, had gotten his priorities all fouled up with wondering when the next time they could be alone together would be. Wondering what she’d be wearing the next day and whether he’d ever be able to get her to take whatever that was off for him. As soon as she put her hands on him he forgot reality and dove head-first into the same misguided fantasy that Max was indulging in with Liz when they all knew true love just didn’t happen and certainly couldn’t happen for them with anyone in Roswell, New Mexico.

Contact with humans was definitely messing up his head. And that had been made incredibly clear the day before when Maria had started in on him in the storage room, asking him a bunch of stupid questions and basically demanding they go public. He’d been fooling himself into thinking they felt exactly the same way about the whole situation and were both wanting not to screw up what they had.

Of course, he’d been a fool to think that they really felt the same way about things. While Maria did have more things in common with him than anyone else he’d ever met, she was still a girl and a human, and because of that impossible to understand. Why did she have to start asking all those questions? Why wasn’t she satisfied with what they had, with the unspoken connection they felt whenever they touched.

Or was it really they who felt it, or was he the only one? He knew she was feeling something, or else she was acting like she did. And if she didn’t feel anything when she kissed him, why did she want to do it? Why was she pushing for a “relationship” rather than being satisfied with all the groping they were doing in darkened corners like he was.

God knew, he thought about groping her in dark corners all the time. Even at times when he should have been paying attention to something else. He’d even screwed up an important cut on his project for shop class because he’d been thinking about what she’d felt like in that green dress she’d worn on Tuesday and wishing he’d been brave enough to put his hand under her skirt. He’d actually wasted one kind of wood thinking about things that often gave him another kind. He felt kind of creepy doing it, but the plain fact was Maria had been fuel for his masturbation fantasies ever since their little trip to Marathon. She was fuel way better than any dumb porno centerfold from Hank’s Hustlers ever could be because she knew his name and might actually consider doing something with him for real someday.

And then there was always the great way she smelled and how soft her lips were when you kissed them despite the fact that she wore way too much lip gloss and it was actually kind of slimy at first. She was kind of flat-chested but she more than made up for it in every other way. Long legs, slim waist, soft skin, she could be kind of dorky sometimes, but other times she had a kind of elegance that some girls never got even if they tried. She especially had it when she was mad. It was what had first made him think about kissing her. To wipe the stiff, haughty expression off her face. And he’d do it sometime, too. When she was mad. He’d kiss her and kiss her until all that stiff haughtiness melted away and she clung to him and breathed his name into his mouth and took him to bed and never let him go.

He’d woken up the past two mornings holding onto his pillow half-dreaming it was her and they were in bed together in their own place and neither of them was planning on going anywhere for a long time. That scared the living crap out of him. He’d never been attached to anything or anyone in his life. He’d never even had a pet. There was nothing in this world that was his and now he found himself wishing that there was. Wishing that Maria was.

It was like she was some kind of blonde-haired ditzy witch like Sabrina or something and she’d cast a spell on him and made him want all kinds of things he could never have. Things that were too dangerous to have, things that could hurt him, things that would hurt him and her.

She was like Eve in the Garden of Eden holding out this apple and saying “Hey, take a bite.” And he, like Adam, had been too stupid and focused on nailing her to notice the snake in the darkness behind her or to remember that God had told him the apple could never be for him. Now it was too late. He’d tasted the forbidden fruit and knew sin. He would have to live in pain for the rest of his life. He’d lost his innocence because now he cared for a human being and couldn’t be the stone wall he needed to be to protect himself. He would have to suffer all the pain of wanting her. Because he knew he couldn’t have her. Not now. Not when she wanted so much from him.

He’d just have to spend the rest of his life alone and dreaming of her.

And the worst part was that he knew that no matter how much it hurt him, it would never make up for the fact that he was going to have to hurt her, too. Even if she didn’t love him. Even if she was just fooling around, being rejected hurt. And he was going to have to tell her it was over -tomorrow. Because if he kept her for even one more day, he was never going to be able to walk away.

It totally sucked to be him.

Please forgive me if I act a little strange  
For I know not what I do  
Feels like lighting running through my veins  
Every time I look at you  
Every time I look at you  
Every time I look at you  
Every time I look at you

-30-


End file.
